


Fire and Stone (I bet my life)

by BlueFingers (POPP_Writing_Group)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bounty Hunters, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Kinda, M/M, Medium Burn, Other, Rewritten from roleplay, not slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-07-28 10:36:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16239896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/POPP_Writing_Group/pseuds/BlueFingers
Summary: Megatron and Rodimus meet after they go after the same target.  Can they learn to work together?  uhhhhhhhh probably not, but at least it'll be interesting watching them get to the point where they're making out, right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ooof.
> 
> okay this is an au where they're both bounty hunters, you got that from the summary (probably). it's also rewritten from an rp i did with my friend. Ummmmm enjoy

Rodimus banged his scanner against his leg, trying to knock the dirt out of it. Granted, that hadn’t been the best landing he had ever had, and he would need to patch up his ship, but any landing he walked away from was a good one.

Satisfied that the scanner should be working, he stopped banging it and turned it on. The signature of his target popped up instantly and, surprisingly, so did another signature. This one was also Cybertronian.

Rodimus pulled out his bow and silently moved on the other Cybertronian’s position. If he had company, he wanted to be the one to shoot first.

 

The target was tired.

When the target was tired, the target got sloppy.

Megatron unhooked his hip flask and drank-- there were mines of raw energon on this planet, but his systems still hadn't refreshed from the last time he'd been forced to stuff a chunk of the stuff into his moderator slot in order to keep functioning long enough to off his target.  Since then, he'd carried a flask bottomed with a subspace generator full of the well-processed energon he liked.

He squinted down the long sight of his cannon-turned-rifle.  The target was a mech named Sidearm-- tall, golden plated, smooth-talking.  He'd kidnapped the bitlet of two wealthy mecha and abused it-- broadcast the whole sick spectacle on sky-drones.  Megatron had started hunting him down long before a bounty had been placed on his head, and Sidearm had known it. He'd been frantically trying to escape, always with the threat of Megatron on his back.

Megatron fired.

Far off, Sidearm jerked, a gash opening on his midsection.  Amidst his howls, Megatron transformed into his tank mode, barreled down the cliff, and landed atop him.

"You're mine," he purred into the gasping mech's audial.  "You're going to tell me where the bitlet is, and perhaps I'll decide to take the  _ alive  _ portion of the bounty instead of the  _ dead." _

Sidearm's optics widened in blatant fear.  

_ "Hey!"  _ came a scream from atop the ridge, and Megatron jerked around.  "That's my bounty!"

_ Oh, you have got to be kidding.  Him? _

 

Rodimus gasped for air as he ran down the cliff.

“That’s my bounty!” he repeated again. “Back off or I’ll make you!”

“With what?” the taller mech responded. “Will you scorch my optics with your paint choices?"

“Ha, ha, you’re a real comedian.” Rodimus slid to a halt—a perfect and flashy move if there ever was one—and loaded his bow. “I’ll just use this.”

The mech just stared at him, a slightly amused look on his face. When the injured bounty lying at his feet tried to move, he placed his pede on the mech’s chest without even looking at him.

Rodimus knew this guy. Flawless score, high number of kills, ruthless. And here he was threatening him. If Rodimus wasn’t Rodimus, he’d be more scared.

“I found this bounty first,” the mech said, his voice not loud, but projected in a way that carried. “By the rules, he’s mine.”

“Yeah, but I put my name down first for catching him, so by other rules, he’s  _ mine _ .”  Rodimus stared the other bounty hunter down, determined not to be the first one to break eye contact

 

Megatron  _ knew  _ this bot.  This flashy, over-painted excuse for a bounty hunter.  His name was Hot Rod, but he'd changed it once he'd gotten one famous hit and started broadcasting his services all over Cybertron.   _ Rodimus.   _

"What other rules?" he asked tiredly.  "The rules of the trade state that the first one to the mech takes the bounty."

"I don't wanna hear it!" the little mech shouted.  "I was here at the same time as you!"

"Listen," Megatron grated out.  "Rodimus, this mech has a bitlet he's kidnapped.  This is far more important than you and your petty pride."

The mech's eyes widened in outrage.  "How dare you?" he hissed. "I'll have you know that I was gonna ask him about the bitlet too!"

"Then go away.  Let me find out.  Find yourself another bounty."

Rodimus folded his arms.  "No."

"Go away," Megatron growled.  "I can let this one up, beat the slag out of you, and chase him down again.  Don't make me."

Rodimus smirked.  "I'd like to see you try."

Well, what was there for him to do after that statement but get up and prove his point?

Ten minutes and an annoying burn of energy-arrow on his helm later, Megatron's point had been made.

"You've cost me an easy target," he hissed into Rodimus' audial after he had him pinned, chest to the dirt and bow discarded.  "You're going to help me find him again."

"Frag off!" Rodimus screamed, bucking against Megatron's bigger frame.  

Megatron chuckled.  Reaching into his subspace, he pulled out a circular item-- a remnant from his days in the gladiator rings, useful for keeping hotheads in their place-- and fastened it around Rodimus' neck.  As he did so, he stood, allowing the smaller mech to get up.

"What the slag is this?" Rodimus gasped, pulling at the collar.  

Megatron waggled a remote at him.  "Electric collar. Crude, but efficient; and it'll stay on until you help me find my target."

Rodimus' eyes slowly narrowed, and he began cursing inventively as Megatron beckoned him to follow.


	2. Chapter 2

He kept cursing, using every word that he knew, and the ‘Con didn’t even glance back at him. That made Rodimus even madder. He started using words he had only dared to think, things that would’ve made anyone else blush. But still the ‘Con ignored him.

“Frag this,” Rodimus mumbled.

He moved quicker and started to walk next to the other bounty hunter, instead of behind him. And then decided that a little poking and prodding wouldn’t hurt.

“So you were a gladiator?” Rodimus asked, fingering the collar around his neck.

“Yes.”

It was a simple, short answer. Rodimus wasn’t about to let it go.

“So what exactly does this little guy do?” he asked, tapping at the collar.

“This ‘little guy’ sends an electrical shock through all your processors, temporarily shutting you down. Don’t make me test it.”

Rodimus hid the fact that he was scared—which he was, and was never going to admit—but inside, he was formulating a plan to ditch the collar, get his bow back, and track down the bounty before the ‘Con did.

 

Megatron felt the stupid bow poking him from inside his subspace with every step.  He still didn't know why he'd kept it-- unless it was out of some kind of professional courtesy.  Rodimus was a fellow bounty hunter, after all-- loud, obnoxious, unskilled, but still a colleague of sorts.  He didn't need his only weapon destroyed. Weapons were hard enough to come by, anyway.

"All right," he said, stopping.  The target's tracks had led off the sand and into stony ground.  There would be no easy tracking after this, but Megatron had already figured out seven ways to find where he'd headed.  "Time to impress me, little hunter."

"Shut up," Rodimus mumbled.  Megatron arched an optic ridge and tapped him warningly on the collar.

"Careful, Rodimus.  I may lose patience."

"What is it you want, anyway?!" Rodimus snapped, slapping Megatron's hand away.  "Everyone knows you're the best at finding a trail gone cold-- why'd you want me?  Why'd ya drag me along? I can't do anything except--"

"Except  _ learn,"  _ Megatron said sternly.

He turned away so he didn't have to see the way Rodimus' eyes widened.  

"See that, right there?  A stone out of place from the path.  Look underneath." He bent to roll it over.  "Energon. Sidearm is smart-- he knows I'm following him, which means he's going to be trying to hide his tracks.  I wouldn't be surprised if he's already tried to plug his wound by now, which means we have to look for something out of place that he used."

"Like those organic plants?" Rodimus offered hesitantly.

Megatron looked.  Indeed, a bunch of organic stuffage had been unceremoniously ripped from its growth spot.

"Good, Rodimus, good," he said appreciatively.  "He definitely went that way."

And they went on.

 

Rodimus wasn’t sure what to think of this mech he had found himself with. Or had been forced to work with. Either one worked.

At first he seemed harsh and Rodimus thought he was going to kill him. Then, he started teaching Rodimus stuff, and to his surprise, he liked it. He had been trying to get better for a while now and this was a perfect way to do it.

They walked on, following the path the injured bounty had left. Rodimus was getting so excited to find him that he would run ahead, pointing out all the signs that he noticed. Whenever he glanced back, he spotted the other mech quickly wiping a smile off his face, so Rodimus stopped. Why was the other mech doing that? Did he have something stuck to his aft again? Wouldn’t be the first time. But after subtly checking—and finding nothing—Rodimus just decided that the other guy was a nutjob and was just going to be weird.

Rodimus crested a hill and dropped to his stomach plating the second he saw what was on the other side.

“Did your source mention a private army?” he whispered to the other mech when he joined him.

“No, why?”

“Because that’s what waiting for us over this ridge.”

 

"It doesn't matter," Megatron said roughly, jerking Rodimus away from the crest of the hill.  "My target--"

"Not just yours," the little mech grumbled.

_ "My target,"  _ Megatron repeated, "isn't down there."

"How do you know?"  Rodimus looked at him quizzically.  "There's thousands of people!"

"I know," Megatron growled, "because he's going  _ that  _ way."

Rodimus looked.  Sidearm was hurrying away, his plating glinting in the sun.

"Come on," Megatron said, and turned to follow.

"No."

Megatron glanced back.  "I don't think you understand."

Rodimus lifted his chin.  "No. I've gotta find out what these guys are doing-- looks like they're gearing up to fight--"

"None of that matters.  You're with me."

"No."

Megatron snarled, and before he could think better, pulled out the control and snapped the button.

Rodimus went stiff, electricity crackling out through the collar, and fell to the ground.

Megatron sighed, almost immediately regretting his decision-- but Rodimus was powering up again, spitting static and coughing, and the look in his eyes silenced Megatron better than anything.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Rodimus gritted his teeth, feeling sparks run through his body, but he ignored them. Slowly, very slowly, he forced his stiff body to stand.  He kept his optics on the mech the whole time he was standing up, putting all his rage into a single glare.

“No,” he repeated. “I’m going to find out why that army’s doing. We have all the time in the world to catch a bounty that’s injured and stuck on this planet, unless you don’t think you’re good enough.”

He almost regretted his word choice when the mech’s finger hovered over the button again, but he never pushed it.

“Fine, but if you cost me my bounty—”

“ _ My bounty _ .”

“If you cost me my bounty, I will bring you in instead.”

“What happened to honor among thieves?”

“There is none.”

Rodimus rolled his optics and moved back up the slope. “I think that’s what’s passing for the command center.”  He pointed to a cluster of buildings. “Maybe once we get in there we can find out what they’re doing, stop them, then get my bounty.”

He heard the other mech sigh when he said it was  _ his  _ bounty, but Rodimus didn’t care. He deserved to lose his bounty. After all, he had locked Rodimus up and had cost him valuable time. So, yeah, he deserved it.

Something caught his attention and he swore loudly.

“What is it?” the other mech asked.

“Um, we’ve just been spotted.”

 

Rodimus was slow, and he was more interested in fighting than running.  Megatron grabbed him, pulled him away from the ridge, and ran.

"Let me  _ go!   _ You said you would help me figure out what they were doing!" Rodimus yelled, kicking against Megatron's sides.

"None of that is going to mean anything if we get captured," Megatron grunted, going to alt-mode and beginning to drive over the hill and away.  He assumed that Rodimus was behind him.

Rodimus was  _ not. _

Megatron skidded to a halt.  From his position behind a cache of trees, he could see Rodimus being cuffed and dragged away by several mecha.

Megatron couldn't even marshal enough energy for a longsuffering sigh.

 

They were on top of him before he could raise a fist. One of them swung a fist in an arch that connected with Rodimus’ face, followed by another blow that landed on his chassis, and he fell to the ground in agony. Then the other mechas picked him up by his arms and dragged him across the rough ground.

Rodimus briefly wondered if they would take off the collar before the world went black.

 

Megatron wasn't used to  _ crises of conscience.   _ What he was used to was quick decisions, quick missions, quick  _ targets who shouldn't have gotten away.   _ He was  _ not  _ used to the memory of intense blue optics and an eager face clouding his thoughts as he began to track down the target again.

_ He stayed behind, he got himself caught,  _ he mercilessly told that traitorous part of himself.   _ What happens to him now is his problem. _

_. . .  _ Except it wasn't, not really, not when the memory of his eyes was overtaking every tracking procedure Megatron had in his processor.

_ You can't leave him there alone. _

"I barely know him," Megatron grumbled aloud.   _ A couple hours at best, and they'd been spent fighting, tracking the target, squabbling, and him shocking the other mech.   _

And yet, he knew he couldn't let him go.

Megatron cursed, turned around, and headed back up to the camp-- making sure his fusion cannon was charged.

 

Rodimus sat where they’d dumped him, right inside the camp. His whole body hurt and he was too exhausted to move. This wasn’t how he ever thought he was going to die. He’d always expected to go out in a literal blaze of glory, not be shot in the back of the head or something for trespassing. 

**_Choom!_ **

Startled, Rodimus looked up in time to see the other bounty hunter shooting at the mechs who had caught him. Rodimus watched in awe as he dodged their weapons, sunlight glinting off his plating. This mech made fighting look beautiful, maiming look like an art, and courage like something Rodimus had never seen before.

_ He came back for me,  _ Rodimus thought, absentmindedly rubbing the collar encircling his neck and smiling like an idiot.  _ And I barely even know him. _

“Rodimus, duck!” the mech yelled, pointing his cannon at him.

“I’m on the ground!” Rodimus yelled back. “How am I supposed to—”

His words were cut off by a fusion blast flying over his head and destroying the wall behind him.

“You know,” Rodimus said as the other mech reached him. “We could’ve just left the way you came.” 

 

"Don't talk to me," Megatron growled, and reached out to rip the collar from Rodimus' neck.  The mech's eyes widened--  _ curse those beautiful optics--  _ and he stood.  "I thought you wanted to find out what was going on here."

"Yeah-- yeah," Rodimus said, his eyes wandering over Megatron's plating and landing on his glowing, smoking fusion cannon.  "What else can you do with that thing?"

Megatron lifted an optic ridge.  There was a distinct chance that Rodimus had not realized how that phrasing sounded, but he doubted it.

"I can cause a distraction while you get into the command center," he said calmly, choosing to ignore the mech's innuendo.  "Don't get yourself captured again."

"If I did, you'd rescue me again, right?" Rodimus said brightly, smiling up at him.

Megatron simply did not know how to respond to this, so he scowled, charged up his cannon again, and stalked off to where mecha were gathering once more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remembered this thing lol
> 
> my friend and i had a lot of fun WRITING this but it was a lot harder to edit than I remembered it being XD

Rodimus stared after the mech for a few moments before remembering what he was supposed to be doing. He bolted towards the command center, stopping only once to shoot several mecha in his way.

Once inside, he went up to the main computer and turned it on. Well, tried to turn it on. After he typed six different passwords in, he gave up and shot the console with an energy arrow, and impossibly, t he computer started loading.

_ Definitely an older model, _ Rodimus thought as he stared at the spinning circle. Without meaning to, his thoughts drifted to the mech fighting outside. He was good, very good, but Rodimus didn’t want to get  _ too  _ attached. Life expectancy in this line of work was low and there was a good chance one of them would die before anything came of this feeling.

Finally the computer loaded and Rodimus found himself looking at something very complicated and lots of formulas that went over his head.

“Hey!” he yelled. “Do you know what this stuff means?”

 

Megatron heard a faint yell from Rodimus, but after judging that it wasn't a scream of pain or death, he ignored it.  He had more. . . pressing things to deal with. 

He dodged a clumsy, well-telegraphed blow, and obliterated the mech who had thrown it with one of his own.  He was enjoying this, truth be told. It had been too long since he had had this kind of fight, with mecha piling on him and screams filling the air.  He knew how powerful he was-- he relished it.

"Your purpose here?" he barked at one mech, who had survived a fusion blast and so seemed worth talking to as an equal.

The mech snarled, holding together his melting plating.  "We're rebels against Cybertron and her flawed government, mech!  What is yours?"

"I'm here for my-- for a bounty I'm chasing."  Megatron stood, and lowered his cannon deliberately.  "Perhaps I was hasty in judging you enemies."

"Perhaps."  The mech looked him over cautiously.  "We should speak."

Megatron did not let his guard down, barking out a harsh laugh instead as a bot very obviously tried to sneak around the back of him and get him with a stun gun.  He whirled, brought his hand down on the startled mech's arm, and broke it. 

"I am willing to speak," he said, "if you are willing to not harm me and my companion."

The mech he was speaking to raised his optic ridges in confusion.  "Companion?"

 

The mentioned companion was in over his head. Rodimus couldn’t make heads or tails of the writing on the screen and to make matters worse, half of it was  in a different language. 

So he was extremely thankful when the other bounty hunter walked in. 

“Thank Primus you’re here” Rodimus said, running up to him. “I need your help figuring out what all of this says.”

“It’ll have to wait.” The mech jerked his helm at another warrior, who had just walked in. “He’s agreed to talk to us, in exchange for—What are you doing?!”

Rodimus pulled his bow out of the mech’s subspace. “Nothing, I just remembered that you had this. Continue.”

Rodimus smiled innocently up at the bounty hunter as he tried to get back on track. He knew he was distracting him.  "If that’s all you have to say on that matter, I want to show you something.”

He grabbed the mech’s hand and pulled him over to the computer.  “Can you read this?”

 

"You could just ask me," said the mech behind him drily, "instead of rooting around in my private computers."

"Of course."  Megatron stepped out of the way, noticing as he did that Rodimus was still grasping his hand.  "Please, if you would, tell my _insatiable_ companion exactly what it is that you are hiding."

The mech sauntered forward, and Megatron got a good look at him for the first time.  He had elegant, pointed finials that had somehow survived the fight even though they looked as if they would crumple under a strong breeze.  His plating dipped in strong curves and points, and he wore too many swords to count.

"You understand," he said, glancing at Megatron, "that I need to know your names, at least, before I trust you with this."

"I am Megatron of Tarn," Megatron said.  "My companion--"

"Rodimus," said Rodimus, letting go of Megatron's hand abruptly.  "Rodimus  _ Prime." _

"I thought Sentinel was Prime," said the mech.

Rodimus flushed.  "I carried the Matrix?"

Megatron glanced at him.   _ This  _ was new.

"If you carried the Matrix, why are you out here as a bounty hunter instead of ruling the people on Cybertron?" the swordsmech asked, and there was a bit of bite to his words.

"A good question," Megatron rumbled.

Rodimus flinched and rubbed the back of his neck.  "Well, do ya think Sentinel was happy with me being a Matrix-carrier?  He tried to have me killed. I'm out here cuz if I went back to Cybertron, I'd be-- well.  Never mind that, who are  _ you?" _

The swordsmech turned and smirked at him.  "I used to be a bounty hunter as well. Perhaps you might recognize me as Deadlock?"

Megatron felt his optic ridges lift in disbelief.  Deadlock had been an  _ excellent  _ bounty hunter.  He had even stolen a few of Megatron's targets.

"You?" he said.  "What are you doing here?"

"I told you," said Deadlock, "we're rebelling against Cybertron."

And he unlocked the computer.


End file.
